


Gracing Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, rockstar!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finally gets passes to go see his favorite band in concert, and backstage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gracing Me

Dean waited anxiously in the driver’s seat of his low-riding Chevy Impala. His knuckles were almost white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. The last song before the announcement slowly drifted out of the speakers, feeling like an eternity with every second. Sam watched as Dean squirmed with raised eyebrows and a light smile on his face.

“And now…” The radio blasted, then drifted. He just can’t take it anymore. Letting the anger get to him, his grip only loosens to let him hit the rubber-covered metal.

“C'mon, c'mon!” Sam laughs, receiving a side glance before the speaking continues.

“Tonight we are announcing the winners of the concert tickets. These are a big deal. Front row tickets, back stage passes, you get to meet the band! But only one person wins!” The man laughs taunting, lowering Dean’s confidence. “You all answered a live feed survey during the last break. The first person to have all of those questions turned in the fastest, plus having all of them correct, will be the winner.”

And now it’s back. Dean is so ready to show off his skills. He knows he has them all right. He knows he turned them in the fastest, no one in this run-down town still listens to the radio like he does. They probably don’t even listen to the band, so that raises his chances even more.

“We have eight people who turned in the survey. But only a certain number had them all correct.” Dean’s smile falters. Who knows at this point. “And it makes my job so much easier to say that it, my lovely people of Lawrence, it is only one!”

“Did you hear that Sammy! I’ve practically won already!” He receives a head shake in return.

“It is… Hm, don’t know if I can read this correctly, guys. Maybe we have to do it all over again.” The man sighs comically, and at this point Dean couldn’t be more annoyed so he grunts in response. “Never mind! I can read it! Their name is Dean Winchester! Congrats, and come up to the station to collect your tickets for tonight’s Fallen Angels concert!”

•—•

“Proof of ID?” He gets asked. He practically jumps to grab his wallet from his back pocket. “So many people have been coming in saying they’re Dean without anything to back ‘em up.” He looks so over the whole ordeal, so Dean is totally happy to relieve him of that.

“Yessir, that’s me. I’m so pumped to get these tickets, you don’t even know, man.” He smiles so big and breathy that it shows all his teeth and lights up his eyes.

He gets handed the tickets and a dismissive tone. He jumps up and taps his toes, almost falling and having to grip Sam’s shoulder for support. Sam looks constipated with the sudden weight.

•—•

“Stop moving! You’re rocking the car!” Sam yells at him. He’s dropping him off and taking the car to go get Jess and bring her out. Dean isn’t dressed up, but he made sure he smelled nice and had a good texture to his hair.

The parking lot was dingy, so he hurried to the arena the best he could. The front took a while to get to, and by that time he was worried he already stunk. He brought an extra shirt and cologne, just in case. Well, whatever, the band will probably be hot and sweaty too.

Hell, he already knows the drummer is hot.

He waits while the surprisingly good opening act begins to fade out.

“And now,” the lead singer bellows. “It’s time for the one and only - Fallen Angels! Give it up, everybody!” And then his ears are filled with screams and claps, drowning out his own. His ribs are almost crushed by the separating gate, but his knows it’s all so worth it. The band walks on stage and the uproar continues.

The lead singer starts his opening speech and it all blurs out as he sets his eyes on the drummer. The dark-haired and light-eyed drummer boy. Castiel Novak had been the center of his dreams ever since the band came into his life.

His eyes are set on the guy for the whole concert. He could swear they made eye contact at least twice. He became so shy each time that he had to quit belting out the lyrics. His eyes would go so wide he looked like a deer in the headlights.

By the end of the concert, he had changed shirts and drenched himself in more cologne. He was not ready to step backstage. He felt like he was entering a new lifetime. But time was ticking and he didn’t want to waste it. He was pushed and shoved and offered glasses of things that he didn’t even think we’re legal. He somehow ended up by a couch.

He sat down and waited. There weren’t too many people, but there were a lot. He didn’t think the band was here yet, seeing as there weren’t many screams or jumping. But he was so anxious. His hands were sweaty and he kept having to wipe them off on his jeans. By the time he was just about to give up, they made their way out of their dressing rooms.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled.

“I hear ya, kid.” The bodyguard standing next to him has solemn raised eyebrows. He looked worn and ready to quit. Dean didn’t blame him.

He got more drinks and other substances shoved in his face, one of which he took out of sheer anxiety. Never to late to ruin your insides. He downs the shot in one go, and when he’s done setting the glass down and licking his lips, his blood runs cold.

Sitting not too far from him is Castiel. His breath gets caught in his throat. He wants to introduce himself but he can’t. All he’s doing is staring into icy blue eyes. He never thought he’d see them this close, but now that he is, he thinks he’s not worthy. He looks away, shy, and clears his throat. He stares at his lap for a while, berating himself in his head.

“What’s your name?” And he’s almost choking. His voice is so rough. He’d heard it in interviews, talk shows - the works. But face to face, he could pass out right now.

“Dean. Winchester, Dean Win- shit sorry.” He laughs awkwardly and shifts his gaze too many time between the man and his crotch.

“Well, hi, Dean. How’s your night so far? Fun?”

“Yeah, just a little nervous is all, man.”

“Yeah I get it. It takes a bit to get used to. I don’t think I am yet, either.” He smiles at Dean, to which he receives the widest green eyes back.

“I don’t think it’s for me. I just like listening to music.”

“Well good. So what’s your favorite song?”

“Gracing Me.” He says, and automatically regrets it. He can’t tell what the other man is thinking, but the possibilities are endless. The man is thinking about how he’d like to grace Dean with so many butterfly kisses, how his eyes are so pretty.

“Dean,” Castiel scoots closer, putting his arm around him. His mouth right against his ear, Castiel says, “Can you grace me with a date?” Dean’s head hits the back of the couch. A chuckle escapes both of their lips.

•—•

They’re at the local diner, secluded, away from fans. They’re lucky it’s late at night and not many people are out at the 24 hour diner. The waitress takes their simple orders and is on her way.

“So, what questions do you get asked the most, so I don’t ask them?” Dean says, bringing the straw of his drink to his lips.

“Well, that one. And no one ever asks what I want to do with my life. What I wanted to, at least. There’s so much more to me than music. Some people don’t realize that.”

And Dean has heart eyes. But he’s also so sorry. Thinking about it, he did often dream to travel. To do something eventful. Castiel might not want his pity, he carries on.

“So, tell me about it, mister. What does a rugged, handsome fella like you do in his free time?” He asks this, feigning a southern doll voice.

“Well, if you must know. I bake. I love it. It always calms me, and what I can do while they’re in the oven is always so soothing. My mom taught me when she had the spare time, but only when I was younger.” Dean doesn’t press. The way Castiel ends it off, he knows it’s too personal. He’s got a past, he understands.

“And if you couldn’t be a drummer?”

“I went to college to go into the field of education. English class always fascinated me, given a great teacher. I love writing, and I always help with songs. I’ve written a few. I wrote Gracing Me.” He looks down at the food set before him. Dean sits shocked while Castiel chows down.

“I had no idea, man.”

“I had just gotten through a spell of sensual and casual lovers. They were always gracing me under the sheets. But I knew I had to stop, it was clouding everything else. I wouldn’t be able to bring someone home for the holidays anyway.” Dean just keeps pumping that little heart of his even faster.

“So a baker and a teacher. That punk rock attitude of yours is just a cover for your gooey insides. It’s so wonderful.” They’ve finished their food. It’s so nice to be so lost in conversation, you don’t even realize what’s happening elsewhere.

“So, Dean, what about you?”

“In college to be a mechanic. Nothing new. Nothing exciting. It’s what I grew up with, and I love it.”

“Well, it is nice that you’re pursuing it. I’m the only on in the band to go to college. I’m superior.” Dean gets a thought in his head. He’s so horny from just hearing Castiel’s voice that he doesn’t know if he can bear it any longer.

“Are you superior anywhere else?”

“Do you wanna find out?” And they’re off to Castiel’s local apartment. He tells Dean about how he can’t sleep in the tour bus, or hotels, so he just rents an apartment for a month. They don’t travel out that much anyway, so it’s no trouble. Dean can’t believe what’s happening to him, but he loves it. He doesn’t care if he’s just a fling, a one-night thing. It’s happening, and he’s so ready.

They get to the apartment and Castiel puts on one of his favorite vinyls, and of course it’s Led Zeppelin. He sways his hips as he pours them both a glass of wine. They talk about nothing in particular, but also everything in between. They end up cuddling on the couch. They’re facing each other, Dean’s legs on top of Castiel’s. Their foreheads touching.

Castiel begins to give Dean butterfly kisses. He bats his eyelashes a couple times, Dean giggling uncontrollably. He moves on to leave light kisses on Dean’s eyelid. He goes lower to Dean’s cheeks, and then his nose. They touch foreheads again.

“Just kiss me, man.” Dean says, a groan following it. He’s gripping Castiel’s forearms like there’s no tomorrow.

He pushes Dean against the end of the couch and settles onto his hips. He runs his hands down his toned chest and receives full encouragement. He bends down to continue his teasing with neck kisses. He sucks, nips, wants to leave marks.

He only travels lower as time goes by. He grazes his hands at Dean’s hip bone, curving his thumb at the the beautiful moan. He scratches at the spot just before his pants begin, loving the reaction he gets. He glides his hand there for a moment before he grips the belt.

“Do you want this?” He says. Feral, and almost ready to pounce. He’s so ready to have what is his for the night. Such supple skin, pink and soft lips, an ass to grasp.

“Oh, god yes.” It’s so breathy, and Dean begins to wiggle his legs under Castiel.

He drags the boy up and brings him to the bedroom. He pushes him onto the bed with such force that Dean bounces inwards and then back up. Castiel then disappears into his closet.

He comes back wearing nothing but black satin panties. He’s got a flogger in his hand, twirling it. Dean’s eyes grow wide, and he tells Castiel that he’s never done anything like it before. There’s reassurance that it’ll go great, and that the safe word is Heaven. He doesn’t want to hurt Dean, at least not too badly.

He makes Dean strip before him and kneel in front of him whilst he sits on the bed. He hits Dean a couple of times on the shoulders, once or twice on his chest. He doesn’t want tonight to be just BDSM, he wants there to be full on sex and penetration. He wants to show Dean what it’s like to live this lifestyle.

He ties Dean to the bed board, fully consented. He reminds him of the safe word once more. Next he reaches into his drawer and finds the perfect little instrument. A glass egg. It’s dark, like obsidian. He licks Dean, long and wet. He puts in a finger at a time at a moderate pace. As soon as he’s confident he can easily fit in three fingers, he pushes it inside Dean. He’s so reactant to the coldness of it.

It vibrates, but Castiel does not tell Dean until it is inside of him.

“Woah, woah. Wow.” He clenches himself around it, trying to steady his breathing. Castiel turns up the speed and begins to leave more hickeys around Dean’s v-line. He notices Dean staring at his satin-bound cock, and stands on the bed. His feet on either side of Dean’s thighs, right up close. He slowly drops the cloth.

The groan that escapes Dean soon follows with one of Castiel’s own throaty melody. Dean licks his lips and waits for permission.

“May I please you, Sir?” And he closes his eyes at the long fingers carding through his hair. He tries to focus on that and the buzzing still signaling from his asshole. There’s a chuckles when Castiel notices his indifference. He strokes his cock once, and then bends down to retrieve the toy. He turns it off as sucks on it a bit, throwing it to the side.

He pushes Dean’s head against the bed board, hand at his neck. He tells the boy to treat him right, and when he gets a nod back, he proceeds. Castiel touches his cock to the boy’s plush, cock-sucking lips. They’re wet and so enjoyable. A whine is heard, so he pulls back and tsks, looking down into emerald eyes. He can’t wait, so much for teasing, and he begins fucking the boy’s face. He doesn’t want to push him for what he can’t take, so he lets his hands free from confinement soon enough.

Dean works what he can’t take with his hands, trying so hard to take it deeper. He swallows a couple of times, then comes up for air and to lick Castiel’s shaft. Finally, Castiel’s hips begin to rut and his pace falters, pushing Dean back to the bed, and he spills into his mouth. He sighs and moans all at once, because Dean pulls off so slowly.

He drops down over Dean’s hips again, continuing the string of hickeys he’d already begun. His hands roam wherever they please. Dean wiggles and moans from the touches, so overworked and tender.

Castiel grabs what he needs from the drawer, making sure to carefully apply the condom and not drip any lube on his sheets, even though he knows he’ll need to clean them anyway. He prepares Dean so slowly, long and drawn out. Caressing the boy’s ass cheeks and pumping in with one long finger after another.

Once this is over, Dean is practically begging for it. He doesn’t know how long he’ll last. So Castiel goes for it. But not without a little teasing. He puts the head right at dean’s entrance, circling it a few times. He gets a whine in response, so he continues on. One inch for every eternity. It happens so slow, but so magically.

He goes in so slowly and comes out so quickly. Dean’s stomach shakes with the intensity. Castiel pulls the boy’s legs onto his shoulders for momentum, thrusting in quicker than ever. He keeps up a ghastly pace, one right after another. They’re shaking the bed. Dean has his mouth wide open with pleasure, no words or even sounds having the courage to leave his lips.

Castiel grips the calf on his left shoulder, brimming his finger on Dean’s lips with his left. They’re so soft and wet and done for. Used like they were meant to be. Dean sucks on Castiel’s finger until it’s almost over.

He begs Castiel to let him come, for them both to come. It’s so overbearing but also ravaging at the same time. He doesn’t want it to end, but he needs it to, all the same. They both come in a wash of ecstasy, electricity like a wave from head to wiggling toes. They grow still, and then release their breaths all at once. It’s deep and heavy and erotic.

Castiel collapsed onto the bed, taking off the well-used condom. They lay side by side for a moment, and Dean knows what’s coming next. An end. But a wonderful end.

Castiel caresses his cheeks, thanking him. He grabs his clothes out of the closet and sets off to the bathroom. He comes back out with a cloth, sighing as he sees Dean later out, all pretty on his bed. A night well spent. He draws put the rest of it by cleaning the boy off and setting him on his way.

There’s a number on the front of Dean’s backstage pass.


End file.
